


Time Well Spent

by dark_pookha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_pookha/pseuds/dark_pookha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a bad breakup with Ginny and falls for his potions tutor, Luna Lovegood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Well Spent

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another story from my earlier writing. This story was written in about two and half hours in a sudden rush of inspiration. I still want to go back and chapter it out, so it doesn't feel rushed, but I still love the plot of it. I have headcanon that Luna is very good at Potions, but not in a 'follow the book' type way.

I wished that I had never come back for my seventh year. I thought that I could just continue on as a regular student, but wherever I went, people stared and talked behind my back. Even the professors seemed affected by my celebrity, with the exception of Headmistress McGonagall. They fawned and preened to get close to me; it made me sick, reminded me of how people fell all over themselves to be near Lockhart. 

I hoped that I could get things started with Ginny again, but she was so bloody upset about being cut out of the hunt for the Horcruxes. I’ll never forget how she broke up with me just before Christmas break. We had just finished a Quidditch practice where I had been particularly hard on her, fueled by a row we had earlier. As she stormed away, I rushed to catch her up, but got mobbed by other Gryffindors. Stupid Romilda Vane flashed me, trying to attract my attention. 

I pushed my way through the crowd, trying to catch up to Ginny. I didn’t manage to catch up with her until we were in the changing room. She had already disappeared behind the partition separating the boys’ side from the girls’ side, forcing me to either wait or shout to be heard. I chose shouting, like I often did in those days. 

“Ginny! Come out here and talk to me!”

Heads swiveled to stare at me.

Ginny poked her head around the corner of the partition, her hair all tousled and lovely, catching a strange glow from the fading light. 

She yelled back at me, “You don’t want to talk, you just want to shout some more! If it’s yelling you want, I can do that with the best of them!”

She come around the corner, dressed only in her knickers and bra, got right into my face and said in a menacing growl, “Never show me up like that again in front of others. Never yell at me like I’m a dog that just ate your favourite slippers. As a matter of fact, never talk to me again. I don’t even want to see your face again. I’m sick of your arrogance, trying to decide what’s best for me. I can make my own decisions. I can live with my own choices. Now you have to live with yours, too.”

A shocked silence fell over the changing room. Slowly, as everyone finished changing, they all filtered out, except Ron.

Ron came and sat next to me, put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Don’t sweat it, mate. You know Ginny gets like this sometimes. She’ll get over it and you’ll make up soon, I know it.”

I looked at him, shook my head and replied, “I think she’s serious this time. We had a big row this morning. I…I proposed to her this morning and she turned me down flat. She said that she needs some time to herself to work things out. You know she got an offer to play professional Quidditch in France?”

Ron nodded.

I continued on, “She’s going to accept that offer and go play for the Avignon Angels. She told me this morning that she just signed a three year contract with them and she quote, ‘didn’t want to be tied down in a relationship with a man more concerned about his fame than her feelings.’”

As I spoke to Ron, I could still see Ginny’s regretful face as she took the velvet covered box I had given her and pressed it back into my hand. She had wiped tears away from her face with the back of her hand and left without saying more. 

“Look, Ron, I just need some time to myself now,” I told him, standing so I could finish changing. Ron stood with me, squeezed my shoulder in a friendly manner and left, saying back over his shoulder, “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

That night, I used the Invisibility cloak and snuck out of Hogwarts. That was the first night that I got seriously pissed. 

Christmas break came around and I was looking forward to visiting the Burrow and having a fun time with my friends, even if Ginny would only give me a frosty silence. As I was packing for the break, Ron approached me and said, “Harry, I’ve got something hard to tell you.”

I sat down on my bed and waited for him to continue.

He screwed his face up in that way that Ron has and said, “Harry, Ginny doesn’t want you to come to the Burrow this Christmas. She asked me to speak with you and ask you to stay away.”

I looked up at him, shocked and asked, “And your mother, what does she think?”

He replied, “She said that you should follow your conscience. If you feel that you need to come to the Burrow to be with family, then you should come anyway. She also said that she would talk to Ginny and try to reason with her that even if she’s upset with you, that it’s no reason to keep you away from me and Hermione.”

I asked, emotion making my voice thick, “If I do stay away, would you and Hermione visit me on Christmas Day?”

Ron nodded, and said, “Of course we would, Harry. You’re our friend. I’ll always be your friend, no matter what, as will Hermione.”

I finished packing and left for Grimmauld Place immediately afterward.

That night, I had Kreacher go out and buy Firewhiskey for me. That was the second night that I got seriously pissed. That entire Christmas break is a blur of images for me. Waking up in the morning, drinking, sleeping, waking up in the evening, drinking. Things that I do clearly remember were Kreacher gently cleaning the vomit off my robes a few times and Ron and Hermione’s visit on Christmas Day.

When they arrived around noon, I was already blazingly drunk. I welcomed them in, and went off humming tunelessly to myself to get their presents. I went into the drawing room and retrieved their presents. Turning around to return to the entryway, I almost fell over when I discovered they were right behind me. In my drunken state, I hadn’t heard them come up behind me.

I could feel Hermione’s disapproving anger radiating off of her like hot tarmac. She looked around at the empty bottles of Firewhiskey and the plates of half-eaten food. Finally, she spoke to me, “Harry, is this how you want to live the rest of your life? You want to just slip into a bottle and disappear? Are you the same man who stood up to V—Voldemort? I can’t believe that Kreacher would let you get like this.”

Before I could even respond, she was shouting, “Kreacher! Get in here!”

Kreacher Apparated into the room and bowed to me.

Hermione looked at Kreacher and told him, “Clean this place up, Kreacher. What would the Blacks think of how it looks now?”

Kreacher looked right back at Hermione, anger blazing in his eyes and he spoke in his bullfrog voice, “Master Harry has ordered me not to clean up in here. He said that he likes his peace in here and I’m only to come in to bring him his Firewhiskey and his meals.”

He bowed to me again, and asked, “Do you require anything, Master?”

I dismissed him with a negligent wave.

Hermione walked across the room at a brisk pace, raised her hand back and slapped me across my face. She turned an amazing shade of purple as she yelled, right in my face. “How can you treat Kreacher like that? He deserves better after all he’s been through! You’re going to ruin all the hard work we put into reforming him and he’s going to slip back into being the same vile creature he had been! How dare you let your concerns with Ginny affect how you affect Kreacher! You need to take a hard look at yourself and decide what you want to do!”

Turning on her heels, she strode back to Ron angrily and told him, “Let’s go, Ron, we can leave Harry alone with his new friends.” She gestured at the empty Firewhiskey bottles. As she grabbed Ron’s hand and practically dragged him out, he gave me a sympathetic, worried look that hurt even more than Hermione’s slap.

After they left, I raged for a while, throwing the empty Firewhiskey bottles around, overturning the tables and couch. Finally, exhausted, I sank to the ground and noticed that they hadn’t picked up their presents on the way out. At that point, I broke down and cried helplessly. I vowed at that point to clean up and not get drunk again.

I called for Kreacher, apologised for how I had treated him and helped him clean up the mess. 

I passed the rest of the Christmas break in study, knowing that I would have to somehow raise my Potions mark if I had any hope of becoming an Auror. I posted Ron and Hermione’s gifts with an apology for my behaviour and a promise to never behave that way again to them, or Kreacher. 

When we returned from Christmas break, I was eager for things to return to normal as much as possible, I was eager to make things up with Ginny. Unfortunately, Ginny had other ideas.

Ginny and I had potions together, with all the other NEWT students. Ginny and I had always been partners in Potions that year, with Ron and Hermione being so close now. When I arrived to Potions, I was shocked to find Dean occupying my spot next to Ginny. Dean gave me a look that said ‘it’s not my idea’. Ginny studiously ignored me. I went to take Dean’s spot next to Luna. Luna brightened as I sat by her and said, “Don’t worry, Harry. Ginny’s just trying to make you jealous; you know she doesn’t like Dean’s overly solicitous behaviour.” 

She slid a small, flat package across the desk at me and said, “I made this for you for Christmas, and tried to deliver it to the Burrow, but Ron said you weren’t staying there this year. Happy late Christmas, Harry.”

Before I could reply, Professor Slughorn came in and class began. In the rush to get to our next classes, I stuffed the gift into my knapsack and forgot about it until I unpacked my knapsack later that day. I opened the gift that Luna had given me with a bit of trepidation, scared of what strange thing she might give me.

When I finally got the package open, I just stared. She had painted a group portrait of all the members of Dumbledore’s Army, standing in rows in the Room of Requirement. I looked more closely at the portrait and could see myself with my arms around Ginny from behind, big smiles on both of our faces as Cho looked on jealously from the row behind. 

I was still sitting, crying on my bed, with the curtains drawn when Ron came in.

“Harry,” came his voice from behind the curtains, “are you going to come down to dinner?”

I wiped the tears from my eyes, opened the curtains and went down to dinner with Ron. When we reached the Great Hall, I excused myself and walked directly to the Ravenclaw table. 

Someone at the Ravenclaw table noticed that I was coming and nudged Luna. Luna turned and looked at me curiously as I approached. I walked right up to her and squeezed my way between her and the girl sitting next to her until I was sitting at the Ravenclaw table. A low buzzing of conversation went through the Hall, and it increased when I leaned down and whispered in Luna’s ear, “Thank you for the portrait. It’s the most beautiful gift that I’ve ever received.”

She surprised me by laughing her high braying laugh and leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. “Thanks Harry, I’m glad you liked it. I haven’t figured out yet how to get a group portrait moving yet, so it will always be static. If you’re interested, I could paint a portrait of you that would be animate. I’ve got to admit to ulterior motives: I would be using you to practise my painting.”

I nodded, and said, “That would be nice; I think I’d like to spend more time with you, Luna. There’s something about you that always makes me feel better.”

Dinner appeared on the tables then and the conversation turned to school topics. I spent a wonderful hour just talking about normal topics and pressed thigh to thigh against Luna, owing to jamming myself into the Ravenclaw table. We set an appointment to start the portrait the next night in an unused classroom.

Our sessions for the portrait painting went great, if you can count me being silent and sitting still for an hour each night while Luna prattled and painted. She spoke of all sorts of things as she painted. She told me of her mother and her mother’s spell research and the ill-fated spell that killed her. She told me of her and Xenophilius’ trip to Sweden to search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. She told me of the Rotfang conspiracy (even though she said she didn’t believe that one anymore). She told me how much fun she and Dean had passing time at Shell Cottage while Ron, Hermione, and I were caught up in the hunt for the Horcruxes. She told me how she and Dean eventually split up over how he couldn’t handle her strangeness. She poured her heart out to me, glad to have a captive audience for her talk.

The more she spoke as I sat there, the more I realised that a beautiful, sensitive, gentle soul resided under her eccentric exterior. Listening to her speak about how the other students treated her, I could tell that even though she didn’t let on that it hurt her, that it really did hurt her. 

I started spending more time with her, studying with her after our portrait sessions. It amazed me how bright she was; she could pick up concepts in Charms and Transfiguration intuitively, and she was at least as good at Potions as Hermione. She struggled with the practical spell casting of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and I was able to help her with that. Every time that I would touch her hand to correct her wand action, I would get a thrill of excitement at her touch and she would smile at me. 

One night as we were packing up for the night, she turned to me in the doorway, leaned in a kissed me gently on the lips. Shocked, I just stood there and watched as she skipped down the hallway toward her Common Room. I returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, with what I’m sure was a strange smile on my face. 

As soon as I walked in, Hermione noticed and gestured at me to come over. 

“What happened, Harry? You look the same as that night when Cho kissed you after the DA meeting?” she asked curiously.

I leaned over and whispered back, “Luna kissed me, and I liked it. I—I think I might be falling for Luna. No, I know I’m falling for Luna. I never saw it before how sweet she is, how sensitive. All this time I’m spending with her, getting to really know her, even more than I did during the DA meetings has really made an impression on me.”

I started spending even more time with Luna, we would spend almost every waking moment together, walking hand in hand together and talking. Kissing Luna was so different than kissing Ginny. Ginny kissed very fiercely and passionately, seeming to drink in the passion, hugging tightly and pressing her body against me with animal need. When I kissed Luna, it seemed less fierce and strained, more natural and gentle. That’s not say that the kisses lacked passion or steam, for they surely didn’t. I could tell that what I felt for Luna ran deeper than anything I had ever felt for Cho or even Ginny. I could tell now that what I felt for Cho had been nothing more than a schoolboy crush. I felt less sure about what Ginny and I had shared.

As I left the Great Hall one night, Luna having gone on ahead to set up her painting supplies, Ron grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into a corner to talk. He looked me directly in the eyes and said, “I know what you’re doing, Harry and it’s not nice. If you hurt Ginny any more with this childish game, I swear I will—I don’t know what I’ll do.” He stormed off toward the Gryffindor common room.

Confused, I made my way back to the common room to get my books for studying later with Luna after our painting session. When Ron saw me come in, he left the table he was sharing with Hermione, and I went over to talk to her. 

“Hermione,” I said as I walked up, “Ron accused me of playing some game earlier tonight. What did he mean by that?”

She looked up at me through her bushy hair, and chewed on a quill a moment before answering, “Harry, Ron thinks that you’re deliberately trying to get Ginny jealous by making her think that you’re seeing Luna. He thinks that Ginny’s doing the same with Dean, just to make you jealous.”

I goggled at her, before saying, “Hermione, you know me better than that. You know how I am around girls. There’s no way that I would be able to pull something like that off. I’m not playing with Luna’s feelings or Ginny’s feelings. I genuinely care for Luna. I love Luna. You know that. Could you please try to talk some sense into Ron?”

She looked at me again, with her brow furrowed, “Harry, I’ll try to talk sense to Ron, but you know as well as I do, that sometimes it’s futile. He’s so thick-headed sometimes.”

I grasped her hand quickly and said, “Thanks, Hermione, you’re wonderful.”

Later that night at our painting session, Luna was unusually silent. Finally, she sat down her brushes and spoke, eyes downcast and starting to brim with tears, “Harry, I’ve got to know. Are you just using me to get to Ginny?”

“No, Luna, I would never do that,” I replied gently. I stood to cross the room from seat, causing her to reflexively cover the portrait, since I couldn’t see it until it was completed. I moved to her and embraced her gently. For the first time I told her, “I love you, Luna. It’s taken me a long time to say it, I know. I love you.” I leaned over and kissed away the tears that had started to form. 

Luna leaned into my embrace and said, “I love you, too, Harry. I’ve loved you since fifth year, but was afraid to get between you and Ginny. I didn’t want to hurt Ginny. Harry, when I saw you broken up with Ginny, I took my chance to get close to you. If you think that was wrong, I can move on. If you want to go back to Ginny, I’ll get over you eventually.”

I pulled back from our embrace just enough so she could look me directly in my eyes as I spoke to her, “Luna, I don’t want to go back to Ginny. I want you. I want your sweet gentleness. I want your tender spirit. I want your eccentricities (she smiled at that). I want you; everything that you are is wonderful to me.”

She pulled me closer again, resting her head on my chest and cried gently for a few minutes. Finally, she pulled back, and we began to kiss passionately. After only a few minutes, she pushed me roughly toward my seat and said, “Harry, I think that I’ll finish the portrait tonight, but not if we just stand her and snog all night. Go sit down.”

I hesitated, and said, chuckling, “I don’t know, snogging all night sounds good to me.”

Luna choked a bit and laughed, “Yes, it does. Maybe when the portrait’s done.” She tossed her hair in a half-seductive, half-mocking manner and pushed me again toward my seat.

I returned to my seat and sat still while she painted. This time the silence while she painted was comfortable. I could see her smiling as she stroked her brush on the canvas. Finally, after about an hour and a half, she said, “It’s finished. You can come look now.”

I arose from my seat and went to stand by her, sliding my arm around her waist as I did so. 

The painting had been done in a classic style, me sitting in a chair with a dark background. She had captured my likeness perfectly. As I watched, the me in the painting fidgeted and moved. Suddenly, the whole painting started dissolving and shifting into a cubist representation of me. My mouth went wandering to the top left corner while my nose made circles around the painting. My chin revolved gently in place, the mouth opening and closing in unheard conversation. Just as suddenly, the painting shifted again, the cubist pieces reforming into a pointillist representation of me sitting in the chair. The pointillist painting faded slowly and subtly into the original representation, and then the process started over again.

Luna looked up at my face for a reaction as she said, “I couldn’t decide on a style, so I did all three at once. That’s what took so long.” She looked down, buried her head in my chest again and said, muffled into my robes, “I think it was time well spent, though, don’t you?”

I lifted her chin gently with my hand, bent over to kiss her and spoke, “I think it’s wonderful. And yes, I think it was time well spent.”

chapter image by Norbert1175 from eHPF  



End file.
